


Stuck Inside

by craigstalldaddy



Category: South Park
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-31
Updated: 2012-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-30 10:37:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craigstalldaddy/pseuds/craigstalldaddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was stuck inside during the most joyful of seasons, but that didn't stop the boy in blue from coming and hanging around his windowsill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck Inside

Silence filled the room as he gazed out after the snow that came freshly onto the ground. It was found to be a most uncomfortable silence, but still, he sat through it quietly. From his seat beside the window, he could see the fellow children playing in the snow, bundled in their winter clothes, dressed in their smiles and rosy cheeks. His young, hazel eyes watched all the other children as his tiny, child’s body trembled underneath a thick, forest green blanket. He stifled a soft, jealous sob and pulled his legs onto the chair, hugging them close to his shaking body. On his arm was a cast, written on with various “get well Tweek”s on it. He sighed, wiping away an envious tear that came down his cheek. How the young boy yearned to be join the others in their winter merry. Of course he could join the other boys and girls, but his broken arm left him anxious, and his anxiousness left him inside, alone.

But, outside it was snowing. It looked so fun outside, with untouched snow, boots left dry, and so many jokes he’d miss otherwise. He could miss a whole adventure. But, at the same time, he could end up dead, what with a broken arm and freezing temperatures. But that was alright, because he couldn’t die from the inside. He could participate in other adventures once his arm healed. Besides, the window gave a perfect view of any adventures outside. Maybe he’d see a fight break out, or perhaps a race. Quietly, he let out another muffled sob.

But then, outside, he could just barely see something fixate itself into his unfocused vision. It came into the background and became very still. Hesitant, the blonde looked up, his hazel eyes wide with trepidation. Outside, one boy, one he knew, stopped his pace along the sidewalk and gazed at the blonde boy inside. The other boy was dressed snuggly in navy blue, a navy blue coat, scarf and chullo-styled hat, and dark, blue pants, only to be color-disturbed by a yellow ball of fluff on his hat. He gazed at him with emotionless, grey eyes. The blonde gazed at him, too, but with a much more hesitant and frightened expression. Slowly, the boy in the snow put up one hand from his side and gave a small wave.

With a flinch, the twitchy boy in the window pointed to himself in question. When his gesture was returned with an assured nod, he tugged at his blonde, disheveled hair restlessly.

The boy in blue stepped over to the window and tilted his head questioningly. Bluntly, he thumped his index finger onto the glass of the window in a point. His eyes stayed steady on the other boy’s eyes with the unfading intensity of his blank stare and his index finger pointed, unmoving, on the other boy’s hurt arm.

With an increase in the strength of his trembling, the boy stuck inside grabbed a pen and paper from the table behind him and scribbled furiously onto the sheet. With an anxious frown, he showed the other boy the paper. _I broke my arm and if I go outside I might end up dead because I can’t use it as well,_ it said.

The boy in blue frowned, his blank stare turning into an agitated one. With assurance, he took his index finger from the window and, instead, placed it gently against the ice that clung to the glass. With his fingernail, he etched in a note of his own, one that read, _You look lonely._

The blonde hung his head lowly. A sad air came about him, which the other boy could feel, even from outside the window. The boy inside frowned and shut his eyes tight as an intense tremor tore through him.

Watching him with an unchanging frown, the other boy knocked softly on the window.

With a flinch, the blonde looked up to his companion. His head shook furiously for a quick second, only to be followed by a calm twitch of his body and an anxious stare.

The one in blue chuckled. He leaned on the windowsill, scratching into the ice another note: _Can I be here?_

The twitchy boy gave a surprised smile. Quickly, he scribbled onto the paper, _Want coffee?_

 _Lots of suger! And make it taste like pepermint,_ he etched into the ice with his fingernail.

Quickly, the blonde leaped out of his seat and threw his blanket onto the floor beside him. He sprinted into the kitchen, just barely able to stop before slamming into the counters. His fingers fumbled against a cup, almost dropping it as he brought a thermos down from the cabinet. With unsteady hands, he poured hot coffee, brewed only a few minutes ago, into the cup, along with two spoonfuls of sugar and plenty of peppermint creamer. With a jolt of energy, he hurried back to the window where his companion had been. Much to his joy, the boy in blue still lingered by the window. The blonde lit up with glee and gave a huge smile as he settled back into his seat, unlatching the window and opening it wide.

The boy out in the snow gave a sincere smile in return, gently taking the coffee cup into his hands and giving it a sip.

The boy inside gave a soft, satisfied chuckle and said, “Hi Craig!”

Craig smiled wider and leaned back onto the window sill. With a soft, happy tone, he said, “Hi Tweek.”


End file.
